Through the Vortex

by Bane's Desire

Yaoi... Caught up in an experiment gone wrong, Duo loses everything that comprised his world. He finds himself living another man's life in a strange and every surprising world. See author's notes on page one.

10. 10 Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Through the Vortex
Bane's Desire
Chapter 10 - Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Warning: If you didn't already know: m:m relationship, lime

I was aware of the exact moment Mueller rushed into the building, knowing he'd received an urgent summons from the Corrective Center. The sudden shuffling and soft exclamations that came from outside the door I'd barricaded myself behind announced his presence as did the expressions of relief I saw through the small rectangular window set in the center of the door. Moments before, Selba had been trying to reason with me in soothing tones through the closed door, yet being in the middle of expressing my outrage I was having none of it. As the workers reacted to Mueller's return, Selba broke off her soothing words to announce his arrival. Everything fell silent and went still on the other side of the door giving way to an air of expectation, reminding me of the hushed moment when a theater's lights dim and the curtain rises to begin a performance.

"Duwan, give me entrance." Mueller's face was perfectly centered in the small window, looking like a framed portrait as he called to me through the door. As he was my lifeline in the weird and twisted world, I felt I had no choice but to respond. Wearing only the towel around my hips, covering my scanty underwear, I reluctantly approached the door and got as close to it as I could. The furniture that I'd piled up in front of it had effectively kept the center's workers out of the room and now kept him out as well. My caretaker's expression matched the worried and distraught faces of those hovering in the hallway around him. Guess I wasn't the only one who was upset.

"Let me speak with him alone," Mueller said to those around him. "As I related to you, he has endured a traumatic episode recently and it has cloaked his memory and unpredictable conduct is to be expected."

I could see Selba and her assistants nod in agreement though it was pretty damn clear to me that they didn't understand anything at all concerning my problem as they backed away from the door. Mueller turned to me once more with a determined look on his face. His voice was authoritative and firm when he said once more, "Give me entrance, Duwan."

I hesitated for only a brief moment before I gave in and began to take the furniture down. In a calmer voice Mueller began to try and sooth me while watching as I cleared the area in front of the door. "All will be well, Duwan. There is no need for you to upset yourself. I am here now and no one will cause you harm." Once the area was clear I stood back as the door was cautiously opened. "What is it that has you so troubled?" Mueller asked with concern as he stepped into the room and then closed the door behind him. He slowly and a bit warily approached me as I leveled my most deadly glare on him.

"What do you mean what's troubling me?" I snapped. "Look at me, isn't it obvious?"

The pale blue eyes blinked with confusion. He obviously had no idea why I was so peeved. His eyes then scanned my entire body before looking back at my stormy face. "It is clear that you are overwrought, Duwan. I deem it necessary to forgo our visit to Mistrah Sallah and deliver you back to the abode so that you may compose yourself."

"Overwrought! I've been made into a... a... freak. I think I have every reason to be overwrought. Look at me! Look what they did!"

"You appear as you should," my caretaker said calmly with a sage expression on his face. "You are now in physical conformity with all Chosen and are expected to maintain yourself as such throughout your contract."

Damn, I didn't know how I got myself into these kinds of predicaments, but I decided then and there that it was going to stop. "Bring me my damn clothes so I don't have everyone gawking at me," I snapped, feeling surly. Mueller turned with a disapproving frown and moved back to the closed door. He opened it a crack and spoke to the person standing in the hall for a moment. Several moments later he returned to me with my purple clothing in hand.

"Let me help you," he said, unfolding my clothing.

"Help me? Help me!" I shouted, feeling angrier than I'd been since my arrival on Erith. My eyes happened to glance at the small window in the door and I could see that we still had an audience. The expressions on the faces of the center's workers was of severe disapproval, aimed solely at me and most likely because of my behavior. I remembered the warning Mueller had given me earlier and so with great effort I reigned in my anger and tempered my need to throw a major tantrum that no one in the building would ever forget. Schooling my facial expression, I turned my back to the door so that our audience couldn't see me and lowered my voice. Looking at my caretaker from out of the corner of my eyes I asked through gritted teeth, "What the hell have you done? You've made me a freak and Selba says it's permanent. How the hell could you let them do this to me?"

"I am uncertain as to what you are objecting to." Mueller said, looking innocent as his eyes scanned in my body once more. I figured that having my whole body bared, with the exception of my towel-covered hips, that it was obvious. My caretaker sounded dumbfounded as he added, "They took away all unsightly blemishes and your skin is now resplendent, smooth and sleek."

"I'm a freak!" I exclaimed hotly.

"You are very pleasing to the eye, Duwan," the other man interjected.

"They took off all my body hair except for where that shitty excuse for underwear covered. Look!" I raised my arm. "They even removed my armpit hair as well as the hair on my chest, arms and legs."

"You had no significant growth of hair on your chest or body.

"So I was slow to mature," I snapped back, throwing my hands up in the air as a sign of my frustration. "It was coming and now there's not a chance in hell of that ever happening. Men are supposed to have body hair, Mueller, and even though I didn't have a lot, it still marked me as a man. And look at my face." I slapped my right cheek with my open hand. "My beard is gone. I thought I was only going to get a shave after Hildah complained last night and now I find I'm permanently stuck with the skin of a prepubescent child. Do you know how long it took me to even begin shaving? You've emasculated me! Hell, they even shaped my eyebrows and now they look like a girl's. Dammit, Mueller, I'm a guy, not a girl. And guys have body hair and they don't pluck their eyebrows or shave the hair off of their arms and legs." I was working myself up into a rip-roaring fit when his next words stopped me.

"Not if they are Blue, Red or Purple." He looked straight into my eyes with a firmness I wasn't used to, yet spoke to me in voice as calm as could be. "As I have spoken before, we belong to the highest level of our society, the Privileged. Our lives are dictated by very specific edicts and expectations for performance. Blue rules Erith and maintains the non-conflict way of life we've basked in for over a centron. Red are the hands of Blue. They are the movers of this domain. They exert much effort on our behalf, spending long tireless units each cycle for Blue and for the betterment of the lesser orders of color. We are Purple. It is for us to follow our contracts with Blue and Red, supporting their roles in our own manner. Your corrective treatment today was in accordance to your contract to Mistrah Hildah and as a Purple. Your response to it is insulting to all those who comply with the wishes of Blue and Red out of honor and loyalty."

I tapped down on my anger, though I still couldn't quite come to terms with what had been done to me without my permission. "You're telling me that all males in the three upper levels have no body hair or beards?"

"Not only the males but the females also follow the standards, and many have all hair removed, except that which is on their heads. As you kept your support garment on, it signaled that you wished to keep the hair under it, and that is deemed acceptable. Duwan also made that choice."

My anger slowly leaked out of me when I figured there was no use venting any longer. What was done, was done. It couldn't be reversed even if I put a gun to Selba's head and demanded that every hair be glued back in place. I was a permanent pretty boy. Shit!

"Duwan." Mueller's voice softened with concern as he stepped a bit closer to me. "Have you truly viewed yourself? Come." Taking me by the hand, he led me back to the mirrors. "Your body is beautiful and strong," he said with a touch of pride as he looked over my shoulder and into the mirror at my reflection.

I let my eyes follow his line of sight to see the body reflected in the mirror. With only the skimpy towel wrapped around and accentuating my slim hips, I let my gaze lower to my bare legs, looking strangely smooth and sleek. The defining muscles formed by regular workouts and training at Preventers were no longer hidden by the faint brown fuzz that used to be there. My eyes rose to my chest, now as smooth as a baby's bottom. Like I'd told Mueller, I wasn't in any way hairy, but I'd had a few hairs that looked promising in trying to form a patch at the center of my chest. My gaze trailed down my flat stomach to note the line of hair was missing that had once begun just below my navel and had traveled down to the coarse patch of hair that I, thankfully, still had. I reminded myself that body builders often shaved most of their body for competitions, so it wouldn't be too freaky if I ever got back to my own world in this hairless state. The fact is, only Heero had ever seen me with all of my clothes off, and I wasn't one to go around flaunting my body anyway so no one but a lover would have to know. I sighed, realizing the lack of hair wasn't as disturbing as it had initially been. Still, it was going to take some getting used to. I wondered what Heero would have thought about this. No doubt he and the others would have laughed themselves sick at my expense. I pushed away the sadness that always accompanied thoughts of my lover and friends, determined to try and look at the bright side. I reminded myself that I'd hated shaving after the first couple of months and the novelty of it wore off; I should be grateful that I would ever again have to bother with that daily task. I held onto that thought as I looked to Mueller's expectant face in the mirror and offered him a slightly forced smile.

"Let me clothe you," he said, smiling back at me.

With the fire of my indignation cooling to dying embers, I let him put my clothes back on my hairless body without saying a word. Once that chore had been accomplished, my caretaker dutifully brushed my hair to a glossy shine, relaxing me even further, and pulled it into a pony tail at the top of my head.

"Could we try a braid?" I asked, hopeful. "You know, twisting my hair into arope."

"Weaving," Mueller interpreted, then nodded. "Duwan never cared for that mode of hair placement."

"I prefer it," I told him.

The man's hands began to re-work my hair, but didn't bother to take the ponytail down, so I ended up with a high-set braid. Next time I'd say something sooner and give instructions.

When he decided I was ready to be presented to public eyes, my caretaker led me by the hand out of the room where we were greeted by the wary eyes of the Corrective Center's workers.

"You have worked to perfection on Mistrah Hildah's Chosen, Mistrah Selba," Mueller said, bowing slightly to the woman. "Chosen Duwan extends his gratitude and acknowledges your superior skills. Please withdraw the amount agreed to from our Mistrah's private account on file. Gratitude to you all."

It seemed like a formal farewell, but I guessed it was expected from those who were Purple to those of higher colors. I bowed as well and I felt my hand squeezed in return, then found myself being pulled out of the room and then center's front doors.

The two of us walked silently through the grand lobby until we were at the door of the transport tube. My caretaker stood in front of the doors and, again, a panel opened and a black screen popped out just like it had at the apartment building. After the strange lettering appeared, Mueller turned to look at me with an expression of disappointment on his face, not saying a word.

"I'm sorry," I said, somewhat contrite for my earlier display of anger. "It just kind of took me by surprise. I guess I like to be told when someone's going to mess with my body. In my world, very few men shave their bodies, only their faces. It makes me feel less... male."

"Your genitals are intact, therefore you remain male." The blond's face was devoid of a smile, making me wary.

"Believe me, if they weren't intact, that whole clinic would have been filled with corpses," I replied flippantly.

The darkening of expression on Mueller's face was immediate. I hadn't imagined that he could look so formidable, his expression as intimidating as Heero's best glare... almost. I'd faced Heero's most deadly glares over the time we'd been together and always came out of the experience in one piece. Mueller, though he came close to Heero's glare, didn't phase me other than to get my attention. "Never are you to express yourself in such a vile, violent manner again, Duwan. Do you understand my meaning?"

I was a bit confused. "I was just kidding around. Really, Mueller, I didn't mean it."

"Such intentions, spoken in the presence of Blue or Red, will bring severe punishments upon you and reflect badly on Mistrah Hildah. It is thoughts like that which bring out the worst in us and such actions once nearly annihilated our people. I regret that I will have to inform our Mistrah about this infraction."

The doors to the tube opened and Mueller roughly pulled me in by my hand, still firmly clasped in his own and forcefully sat me in my seat. "Wait, Mueller. Listen, I'm sorry," I said, rushing to cover my ass. "In my world we say things that we don't mean and call it a joke. I was just fooling around. I wouldn't hurt anyone here unless they tried to hurt me first."

The blond remained silent, letting my excuses run off of him like water off a duck's back. I sat back and wondered what was going to happen next and scolded myself for not being more careful. Once our journey back to the abode commenced, I was too worried to take notice of anything that we passed by or the directions we turned this time. I was, however, acutely aware that the man who had tried to help and guide me in this strange world was extremely upset with me.

After he unbuckled my restraints and led me out of the tube and into the hallway of our building, I pulled on his hand to stop him. "Honestly, Mueller. I didn't mean any offense. I didn't know that what I said was wrong here. Can we just forget about it? I'll be more careful next time in choosing my words."

My caretaker's eyes narrowed as he looked at me, judging me. "If it is indeed true that you come here from another place, then you have to let go of what you knew before and adapt to our ways and quickly. Voicing or displaying any manner of violence by Purples or any color, for that matter, is forbidden. The punishment is severe for offenders."

"I didn't understand," I told him quietly, wondering how I was ever going to fit into such an anti-war and non-violent society that was so different from my world on so many levels. War and violence were the two main influences of my youth and I knew it was going to be hard to keep my mouth shut. I figured I was going to have to do what Heero had always admonished me, to think before speaking.

"I will consider not speaking of your violation," Mueller said, surprising me. "But I am certain the Corrective Center will have sent word of your unseemly behavior. You may not escape the consequences of your actions." He then began to walk and led me back to the abode.

"Do men in your world know of peace?" the blond asked me.

"I fought for peace," I told him. "But compared to your world, no, we don't know peace. There are a lot of good as well as evil people in my world, and those who hurt others without a second thought, and some who seek to destroy governments for their own gain. I had a job in an a peacekeeping organization that tried to fight those who would cause harm and destroy peace, but it seemed like an endless, losing battle. I was sick of working so hard and dealing with the worst of humanity. I gave up almost all pretense at having a normal life and receiving so little satisfaction from what I was doing."

"I do not understand," Mueller told me plainly as we reached the door to the abode, that opened swiftly before him. I didn't really know if he meant he didn't understand my words or my meaning.

We entered the abode together and as soon as the door slid shut behind us Mueller, he let go of my hand and turned to face me. "I will explain to Mistrah Hildah why we did not present ourselves at the Preparation Center, that you were upset at the Corrective Center and suggest that Sallah should come here if she desires you to receive your heramones. Go to your resting space and lie down. I will bring you some refreshment to ease your rest."

I did as I was told, not wanting to risk furthering his disappointment in me, though when I arrived at my room, I walked into my closed bedroom door. I rubbed my poor nose, and looked curiously at the unyielding surface. I'd expected it to open as it always had for Mueller, but it hadn't. Not knowing what else to do, I turned around and began to wander around the abode until I found him again. After explaining what had happened, he led me back to my resting space. Like magic, the door opened in front of him without any apparent movement on his part.

"How did you do that?" I asked, studying the area around the doorframe, perplexed by how it worked.

He turned to me, understanding lighting his eyes. "I had forgotten that you have not the talent."

"I've got lots of talent," I protested.

He shook his head, slightly amused. "No, I speak of a talent that many Erithians have, a trait that their progenitors' possess, the ability to envision and manipulate. As you are not Duwan, you do not possess the talent that was his own."

I chewed on that piece of information for a moment. "You mean psychokinesis?"

"Your words are strange," Mueller said, confused.

"It means that you move things with your mind," I said, defining the word for him.

The blond smiled. "Yes. I manipulate objects with thought. Now, go and rest," he ordered, dismissing me and my curiosity. He ushered me into my resting space then promptly left; our discussion had come to an abrupt end.

My mind was spinning with questions even before the doors to my room closed, but with Mueller gone, so there was no one to answer them. I wondered what I could do as I had no intention of following Mueller's suggestion that I sleep, especially in light of the fact I'd already slept for most of the day. That left me with time on my hands. I glanced around the room, once again struck by the lack of personal items, and then a thought came to me. I began a systematic search of every nook and cranny, beginning with the closet. My nose wrinkled with distaste in viewing all the purple within that goodly sized space. At least the clothing was soft and touchable, but man, did I miss my boxers, the color black and my jeans and T-shirts.

I finished going through the drawers inside the closet without finding anything of interest. There were no pictures on the walls or hidden away of family, friends, lovers or even keepsakes. I was struck by how Duwan's space was so opposite in comparison to my home back on Earth. The apartment I shared with Heero was filled with things we'd collected, objects that meant something to us as well as a multitude of pictures of the two of us, our friends and co-workers. Duwan didn't seem to have anything of that sort in his room. Then again, I wondered if that was just normal behavior in this society.

I moved my search to the bedside tables and then underneath the bed. Bingo! I spotted a small green box lodged up against the underside of the mattress. It was wedged in tightly, but I managed to wiggle it free. Sitting on the floor next to the bed, I began to study the nine by seven inch box that was fashioned from some kind of pale, smooth wood. There was no visible catch that held the box closed. I realized that it was some kind of a puzzle box, normally a difficult system to beat, if you didn't have the correct instructions. Since I'd always liked that kind of ancient security, I didn't have too much difficulty figuring how it opened. Once I cracked the puzzle and slid the lid open, I got my first glance at the contents inside. For some reason I was pleased to find my counterpart did indeed have a small hidden stash of mementoes. There was a purple seashell, a ring with glittering amethyst stones imbedded in the surface, a lock of dark brown hair, a black ribbon, several dried flowers and a couple of flat blue rocks. There were also several round, flat objects, which I was unable to identify or determine any use for, so I quickly set them aside. I couldn't imagine the significance of such ordinary things. A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth as I recalled my own stash of memories buried under a blanket and several thick photo albums in my bedroom closet. No doubt my little treasures would likewise baffle any stranger if they happened upon them.

I closed my eyes and in my mind I could picture my own nondescript gray metal box as it sat hidden in my closet. I mentally reached up and pulled it from off the shelf, unlocked it with my lock pick, then opened it and picked up each item within. The first to come out was the strip of black material from the mock priest outfit I'd worn during the first part of the war. It was a reminder to me of so many parts of my past. I knew from frequent touching that it was soft, faded and worn. Pinned to it was a cut-out square from Heero's green tank top that he favored on missions during the first war. A piece of Deathscythe that I'd picked up off the ground after my war buddy had been detonated was an important part of the collection. There were also carefully folded notes from Heero that he'd written to me from his hospital bed while he recovered from injuries during the second war. They were tender, hopeful messages in which he shyly expressed a desire for our relationship to grow into something more permanent. Newspaper clippings declaring an end to the war and the put down of Deikum Barton's attempted coup were cut out and put in envelopes, marking the end of one kind of life and the beginning of another. There were other small items in my box that had a lot of meaning behind them and that came from moments we'd shared together. I thought of my box and its memory-filled belongings with longing. I could only hope that one day I might be able to see and touch them all once again.

I closed Duwan's box and set it carefully back in its hiding place, thinking that the other man, maybe in my world, was checking out my closet, my treasure box, and was thinking about his own and wishing for the same things I did.

I was about to inspect the bathroom when Mueller entered the room, a tray of food in his hands. "You've had several communications while we were out," he told me as he set the tray on the bed. "Chosen Herron requests a visit with you after the last repast. Mistrah Hildah has consented on your behalf."

"You didn't tell her?" I asked, referring to my behavior at the center.

"She remains attending to her duties and will not be present until this eventide. She will not interrupt your time with Heeron to reprimand you. That will be done in private after he has returned to his own abode."

I had a lot of things going through my head just then, and most of them had to do with Herron's visit and the threat of some unknown punishment. I'm not by nature a patient man, and even as a kid I preferred my lectures or punishments to be done quickly, to get them over with so I could get on with life. It irked me that I had to wait to find out just how much trouble I was in. Then there was the matter of Heero's counterpart coming for a visit. Having seen him, I knew he was almost an exact image of my lover, in looks anyway, which brought a whole lot of turmoil of its own because of the problems I'd left unresolved behind me. I felt wary of another visit from his double because even though I'd been hurt by Heero's actions, I still loved him, and a part of me longed to be near a familiar-looking reminder of him and the life and happiness we once shared.

Mueller motioned for me to sit on the bed and the painstakingly slow and tedious task of feeding me began. It struck me suddenly that I didn't feel half as humiliated by the whole experience of being fed like a baby as I had the first time it was done. I guess time eases even that. As my caretaker fed me, he tutored me as to how I should greet Herron when he arrived, and that if I valued my position, I should not impart my real identity to him. Mueller explained that Herron was the Chosen of a Blue and he would be duty bound to tell Mistrah Relna of my deception if I should tell him and that I would suffer greatly from the consequences. I was convinced he was right.

After the meal, or repast, as they called it, Sallah showed up, assessed my condition and seemed pleased by my apparent progress. She gave me a painless, needle-less injection of what she called heramones and then excused herself, leaving as quickly as she'd arrived. I was then led to the bathroom to be bathed again in preparation for Herron's visit. It seemed that I was to spend a great deal of my time getting clean, which was funny because I rarely did anything to work up a sweat.

Mueller was his usual thorough self and took his time in making sure I was immaculately clean and had the scent he assured me was Duwan's favorite. Sniffing my skin, I detected a floral scent clinging to my skin, but it wasn't girly nor overpowering. I liked it. After he'd brushed out my hair, Mueller positioned me on a marked place on bathing room floor and suddenly the expected blast of air came flowing down on me from a spout that had lowered from the ceiling above. It was comfortably warm without being hot and was quick in drying my thick mass of hair. The blond man brushed my hair as it dried and, as it fell over my shoulder, I noticed it was a bit shorter than it had been that morning. It also had a glossy shine to it that almost seemed unnatural. When I questioned him about it, my caretaker said it had also been corrected at the center. They must have done it while I was out of it, because I didn't remember anyone touching my hair. I almost regretted having slept though everything, but I figured that if they gave me happy juice to make me unaware of what was happening, there had to be a good reason for it.

Feeling embarrassed, I questioned my clothing for the evening: a purple satin-like lounge set of low on the hip, boxer-type shorts and a loose, sleeveless robe that came together only at my waist. I looked at the mid-thigh length shorts, finding them comfortable and wondering if I could sneak them past Mueller and use them as underwear instead of the G-string thingy. Despite my misgivings, my caretaker told me the outfit was appropriate attire for my visit with Duwan's familiar. Appropriate was not a word I would have used.

Looking once more in the mirror that was hidden behind my bedroom wall, I had a hard time taking my eyes off of my long, lean and hairless legs. If it weren't for the muscular tone, I'd swear they were a woman's legs. I ran a hand up my arm and looked again at my hairless underarm, then dropped it, resigned to my lack-of-hair state. On close inspection, my face looked... perfect, no blemishes, no more unsightly hair, nothing but skin as smooth as a baby's bottom, not that I knew what that felt like but I figured it had to be soft. I remember how I'd looked forward to shaving for the first time and chuckled at the ignorance of youth. It was a novel experience at first, a true sign that I was becoming a man, which was funny because I never had the life of a normal kid. I'd grown up too fast on the streets and in a gundam, and yet overnight the hair on my body, shaving and getting laid were the outward signs that I had become a man.

After many mornings spent in front of the bathroom mirror using a razor and then an electric shaver on my little bit of stubble, I found that I didn't particularly like shaving, but I liked even less how I looked with hair on my face. What little facial hair I produced was patchy, uneven and looked weird. Like every guy, I tried to grow a mustache but people kept telling me I had something on my upper lip, so I gave up trying and just shaved it off.

I wondered for a moment what product they used to permanently get rid of all my body hair. If I ever returned to Earth and could take that back with me, I'd make a killing on the beauty aids market, producing a product that would appeal to both men and women. Considering the vanity of the majority of the human race, I'd be a friggin' zillionaire.

The faint sound of a chime was heard in the distance from my room. Herron had arrived and my squeaky clean palms began to sweat. I brought a thick portion of my loose hair forward to nervously fiddle with the silky strands and hide a bit of my exposed body.

Several moments later, Heero's double entered my room, led there by Mueller who lingered outside the door wearing this odd, smug and knowing smile on his face. I wondered at his expression as my visitor walked through the door, wearing apparel that was dark purple in color. I stood frozen in place, breath caught in my throat and gawked. My lover on Earth was roguishly handsome, his caramel-colored skin perfectly set off his dark brown hair and his deep blue eyes, that swirled with emotions he rarely let anyone but myself see, never failed to reel me in, hook, line and sinker. Heero wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for me. When his duplicate stepped into my room, I immediately noticed his perfect, hairless skin - lighter in color than Heero's - and his penetrating, lighter blue eyes that were focused solely on me, and a two hundred-watt smile that caused my heart to flutter. My nether regions reacted in opposition to my mind that tried in vain to point out that this sex god walking towards me wasn't Heero. My eyes traveled down to see his dark purple pants that were made of the same silky material as my own clothing, but his were more like long pajama bottoms, worn loose and low on his trim hips and nearly transparent. He, too, wore a robe-like shirt, also sheer, that exposed his chest completely; and what a lovely chest it was.

I swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to keep my libido in check. I had every intention of staying faithful to my lover despite the fact that I believed he'd cheated on me. Until we talked it out and agreed to a formal split, I would give myself only to him. Of course, we'd have to be in the same world for that talk to happen, and the chance of that happening was slim to none. I'd already decided that if I couldn't return to earth, then I'd wait a respectable amount of time to get over Heero before getting involved with anyone else. As this world's version of my man came to a stop in front of me, I found it impossible to take my eyes from his face. Herron's smile was soft yet dazzling and his eyes lacked the creases at their corners that my Heero had, lines garnered from concentrating and glaring more often than not. Yes, Herron was damn attractive and I really needed to keep him at arm's length.

"Duwan." He spoke my new name with obvious affection as he moved forward and embraced me, holding me a moment longer than I was comfortable with.

"Greetings, Herron," I answered and bowed my head just as Mueller taught me, respecting his higher rank. Unfortunately, in my nervous state, my voice came out low and husky, causing the other man's smile to widen with pleasure.

"You appear to be restored," Herron observed, his eyes running up and down my body. "Much more yourself."

"Glad you approve," I replied, wondering if it was the lack of hair on my face and body Herron was referring to.

"I have been at a loss without you." The other man's voice lowered also, sounding very sexy. I knew exactly how he had missed Duwan just by the intonation of that simple phrase, his lust-filled bedroom eyes and suggestive smile. I swallowed with difficulty, telling myself that this was not Heero, this was Duwan's Herron.

The door to my room slid open suddenly and I was never so happy to see anyone as I was to see my caretaker come back into the room. He carried a tray laden with an assortment of finger food, a small, clear decanter with yellow liquid in it and two ridiculous looking glasses that appeared to be a finger width in circumference and six inches tall. He set the tray on the bedside table and looked to me. I pleaded with my eyes for him not to leave me alone.

"Is there anything else you require before I depart?"

Herron answered for the both of us. "No, we need nothing more. You have our gratitude, Mueller. If you activate the scan we will be content for the remainder of the eventide."

It was a clear dismissal. Mueller bowed his head respectfully and left the room, the door closing behind him. Herron proved to be as quick and decisive as my own Heero for he was on me in an instant. My first instinct was to shove him away, but I hesitated as the lips on my own felt so familiar and the hands that quickly found their way under my simple clothing knew right where to touch me. My guilty conscience began to hammer at my head even as Herron's kiss and touch became more intimate. I managed to pull my mouth away from his and gasped for breath.

"Are you hungry?" I blurted out in a rush, definitely panicked.

"Yes," Herron answered as he began an assault on my neck while pulling at my skimpy shirt, baring my shoulder.

"I need a drink," I said and twisted myself out of his grasp and stumbled towards the bedside table where the refreshments were. I quickly poured the golden liquid from the slender necked bottle into the two small narrow glasses. As I said before, I've never cared for wine, but everything I'd imbibed on Erith had tasted wonderful, and that drink was no exception. Again, it had a ripe, fruity taste, but this elixir seemed more concentrated than those I'd tasted before. Forgetting the lesson on proper drinking etiquette Mistrah Hildah had taught me the night before, I tilted my head back and swallowed down the entire glass, probably equal to a quarter of a shot glass. As I licked the last drop off my lips, I put the glass down and turned to look at Herron and was surprised to see him looking at me with eyes wide with disbelief. I hiccuped, and grinned my apology. "Sorry, I was really thirsty."

"Duwan," Herron gasped. "Are you... unbalanced in your mind?"

"Probably. Why?" I answered, wondering about the question and what it was that I'd just gulped down. I was beginning to feel a little funny, not bad, just more... well, I didn't know what.

"You know well that the passion elixir is meant to be ingested in very small amounts to enhance pleasure. You have just taken tre times the proper dosage."

Passion elixir? "Oh boy," I muttered, realizing I was in a whole lot of trouble and feeling rather... stimulated. I looked down to my satin-like shorts to see them tenting in a very embarrassing manner, and with each passing moment my entire body begin to transform into one hairless lump of horny, yearning flesh. I felt as if my nerve endings were being stimulated and titillated from the inside out. In short, I was really, horribly turned on. With eyes wide and my mouth open, I was unable to move or speak as the feelings of need and desire grew within me from whatever the drug was that I'd ingested. I watched breathlessly as Herron moved beside me and poured himself a drink from the bottle and drank the same amount I had before he turned back to me, an intoxicating grin on his handsome face. He reached out and gently slipped his hand behind my neck and drew me forward until my face touched his exposed collar bone. His touch was light, but seemed to ignite some primal flame within my body. I closed my eyes as I tried to cope with the sensations of having erotically charged nerves sending lascivious messages to my brain and groin. My body was thrumming with need and burning with desire. "Touch me," I whispered in a shaky voice, desperately needing the other man's hands on my skin.

Herron acted so much like Heero had when we'd first gotten together, moving with quick efficiency in removing the clothing from off my trembling body. My need to be touched became almost unbearable that I could only stand in place, quivering while I was stripped and then I watched through a sexually-charged haze as he tore off his own clothing.

When at last Herron kissed me again, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. In that moment, I was convinced that whatever the drug was that I'd consumed, was a gift from the gods. I was ready to climax the moment Herron's naked and very soft body pressed up against my own, our hips and erections happily coming together.

"I'm not gonna last," I gasped when Herron's mouth separated from mine.

"Then come," Herron said in a voice deep with passion and the pupils of his eyes had grown enormous, a reaction from the elixir, I guessed. "With the amount of elixir consumed, we will be consorting until the next cycles light," Herron said with a wicked glint in the blue eyes that let me know we were going to have a very busy night and that the man holding me intended to enjoy every moment.

The other Chosen urgently pushed me onto the bed and manipulated both of our bodies until they were entwined in the center. I was shocked by the feelings coursing through me. My body was nearly aflame with the need to be touched by the other man and I had an inexplicable desire to be taken by him, a virtual stranger, who only looked like my lover. The fact that he wasn't my Heero didn't seem to be the problem I thought it would be before I'd taken the elixir.

After torturing my yearning flesh with his teasing kisses that slowly moved down my body, a wet, warm and practiced mouth engulfed me, and my highly sensitized body couldn't take the added stimuli. My mind and orgasm exploded into a breathtaking finale with my climax seeming to last longer than it ever had before. When I finally came to my senses, I was aware of soft lips and hands tracing my torso. With no little effort, I struggled to control my rapid breathing in order to calm my tripping heart. "That was... fantastic," I declared in an awed, breathless voice.

Herron's handsome face came up to my own and his lips delivered a nerve shattering kiss. I couldn't help but think that Herron's mouth and kisses tasted similar to Heero's. When he lifted his head again to smirk down at me, he said, "I think the eventide has begun in a most satisfactory way, but with the amount of elixir consumed, we will be engaged until the new cycle begins."

I was pretty sure I understood what he was saying, that engaged meant more sex, and sure enough, I felt my body beginning to respond as the tingling need in my groin was becoming intense once again. Damn, that was a quick recovery, I thought. I looked up into Herron's blue eyes as I felt my body and erection coming back to its needy state and asked, "How is this possible?"

"This is the result of your overindulgence, my center. Now it is my turn to release. Encircle your legs around my middle, Duwan. I desire to lie within your body." I watched as he leaned over me to reach the bedside table and the tray sitting on top of it. He dipped his fingers into a light blue cream, coating them with what I'd thought was pudding. When I saw exactly where that goo was headed, I knew my guess had been way off the mark.

TBC